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“Hang on, I want my boots on for this.” While she pulls them back on, she asks the room, “Anybody got a hat?”
Sophie runs out to her truck and gets a straw hat, plopping it on the back of Shayanne’s head. “Yass, girl, you got this.”
“Damn straight.”
And she does.
Shay stands with her feet wide and her thumbs in the waistband of her panties as though there are invisible beltloops, and she rocks it.
“Let me see,” she screams after several minutes, a few different poses, and about twenty sexy shots.
We crowd around the tiny screen on the back of my camera. The general consensus is that Shay looks hot, and that seems to give the other girls the push they need.
Rix ends up on the kitchen counter this time. Slouching in just a tank top and boy shorts, I already know this picture will need to be in black and white.
“Hey, Rix, here. You need this,” Sophie says. She hands Rix an ice cube and waves around her chest.
Rix laughs, dips the ice cube into her shirt, and in seconds, her basic black tank is covering some diamond-hard headlights.
“Better,” I agree and start clicking away again.
Allyson wraps up in a sheer curtain she finds in the linen closet and lies down in the grass outside. We’re quick and quiet for her shots, making use of the full moon on her skin, which gives her an ethereal, angelic glow.
Sophie goes classic, leaning over the bathroom counter in her black lace bra. Katelyn added heavy cat-eye eyeliner to her lids and pinned up her hair, letting a few tendrils escape. In her reflection, she slicks red lipstick on her open, pouty lips. It’s very 50s pinup, especially with the dated tile of the bathroom.
“I’m doing a bubble bath shot,” Katelyn says. She draws a hot bath, filling it up with half a bottle of bubbles, and we step out to give her privacy until she’s under the cover of the white foam. “Ready!”
The bathroom is too small for anyone besides the two of us, but the girls stand in the tight hallway, encouraging her with much laughter and cheering.
“Bubble, bubble, you’re in trouble,” a giggly voice whispers to Katelyn from behind me. I smile but keep shooting.
Katelyn has her legs stretched up the wall, and the bubbles slide down their length from her crossed ankles. Her breasts are covered, but the illusion of skin through the tiny holes of air pockets is sexy in a subtle way.
“Got it,” I say.
“Your turn,” Shayanne says.
“Oh, no. That’s okay,” I argue. “The other pictures were already a hard enough sell to my nerves. Sexy shots are way out of my comfort zone.”
“Join the club,” Rix says dryly.
She’s right. This is one of those weird, wild experiences I’m never going to get the chance to have again, like Mom says. I need to let loose and live a little. I don’t have to do anything crazy, nothing uncomfortable, but pushing myself creatively means stepping out of the box sometimes. These women have done that tonight, letting me take their photos. It’s only fair that I do the same.
Once the decision is made in my mind, my heart gets on board and starts racing. Fear, excitement, nerves, and giddiness war in equal measure.
“Okay. What should I do?”
Help. I need some guidance here. Maybe a divine intervention? Well, probably not that, considering I’m taking sexy photos.
Actually . . .
“Wait, I have an idea. But I’m gonna need some help and a moment alone.”
Three, two, one . . .
“What?”
“Oh, my cheesus and crackers, what are you going to do?”
“Uh . . .”
I can’t hold the straight face any longer and laugh, my chosen words having their intended effect on the women.
“Not . . . that. Whatever you’re thinking. I want to do a full silhouette shot, but it means I need to get the lighting just right or it won’t be silhouette, it’ll be naked-naked. And I’m not doing that.”
Mission ready, Rix says, “Tell us what to do.”
We get the lighting just right in my bedroom, do a few test shots with the camera on a tripod, and once I’m happy with the setup, I nod.
“Get it, girl.”
I swallow and close the door behind them. Though they’re on the other side of the thin wood, they don’t desert me, still talking me through it.
“Think sexy thoughts,” Katelyn coaches.
I strip down, tossing my work clothes in the hamper, then climb into the middle of the bed where we tested the light. “Breathe. In, two, three, out, two, three,” I whisper.
I close my eyes, hit the remote button for the camera, and the timer light flashes. Right before it takes the shot, I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling so the camera captures my profile. I do it a few more times, praying each time that it’s working.
